


Fish Breath and Powder Brain

by Bat_Snacks (Illusionary_Oblivion_25)



Series: Tales from Gotham City [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Gotham Police were seriously crooked at one point, Planning a prison-break of the legal variety, Pyreverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 20:53:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13796154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illusionary_Oblivion_25/pseuds/Bat_Snacks
Summary: Detailing the first meeting between the Penguin and Danny Adams. Set in the early years of Batman's heroing, and also of Penguin's villainy.





	Fish Breath and Powder Brain

“Up, Adams. You’ve got a guest –lucky you.”

Danny scowled, fixing the guard with a hard stare. For a moment, he made no other move, but when the other man’s hand twitched towards his baton, he heaved himself off of the chair. The guard had already started towards the door, making Danny’s scowl deepen into an outright snarl; normally, being a crippled army veteran earned him a bit more patience and consideration than that. He forced himself to walk quickly to catch up, hobbling with as much dignity as such a motion could allow him, shooting dark glares at anyone stupid enough to make a sound.

Sometimes, Danny truly believed that the exercise yard was the part of the prison that sat furthest from any other point, and today was no exception. The trek from one place to another seemed to take an entire hour, despite logic screaming in the back of his mind –it sounded like his late mother, so of course it _had_ to be right– that he was exaggerating. Screw logic, especially if it suddenly gained the body of a twenty-year-old supermodel, and had no unrealistic expectations of him giving a flying rat’s arse about their precious feelings.

He was getting off topic, though the distraction proved to keep his ire occupied long enough to reach the visitation rooms. Whoever had come to see him had been seated already on the other side of the booth, phone receiver in-hand, and he took a moment to assess his visitor.

First thing’s first, he didn’t recognise him. The man was very short –probably less than five feet tall, if he had to guess– and had a very prominent beaklike nose. Dark hair under a rather expensive-looking hat, sharp blue-green eyes scanning Danny’s face from under the brim, and a lop-sided near-smirk that he was probably trying to hide. The man said and did nothing until Danny had sat down heavily in the chair opposite him and pressed the receiver on his side of the acrylic glass to his ear, then the visitor smiled. “Th’name’s Cobblepot –Oswald Cobblepot. Pleasure t’make your acquaintance.”

More out of long-ingrained politeness than friendliness, Danny returned the expression for a moment, although it may have looked more like a grimace. “You already know who I am. What do you want?”

“Straight to business, eh? I like that.” Cobblepot’s expression morphed into a grin. “I hear you’re good with firearms. Bloody masterful, was the description, now I think about it.”

“I was in the army, and I made them after getting discharged. Your point?” Danny replied in a deadpan. Despite feeling warm bubbling pride stir in his chest at the compliment, he didn’t want to give anything away to this strange little man until he had a better grasp on him.

Nodding, Cobblepot continued. “I also hear that copper you capped was one o’the ones that was takin’ money from criminals. Think that’s true?”

“Wouldn’t be surprised. At least half the ‘boys in blue’ were in someone’s pocket, other than their official employer… not sure if that’s still the case, of course.” He shrugged, letting a soft chortle escape him. “Gotham sure has changed, these past few years…”

“Well, I’ll just cut t’the chase. I don’t think you deserve this sentence…”

“Nice to know.”

“And I’m willin’ to pay your bail, if you come work for me.”

Danny paused, looking the small man over with a more scrutinising eye, this time. The name ‘Cobblepot’ rang some bells in the back of his mind –thankfully drowning out the voice of ‘logic’ at long last– so he tried to place where he’d come across it before. “Cobblepot… prominent family, ‘back in the day’, in this city? You’re also the one that opened that club, or whatever, near the old Pinkney museum, right? What was it called? Icecube Lounge?”

“Iceberg, actually. So I guess you know a bit about me, too, eh? Makes this a bit simpler.” Cobblepot answered with a shrug of his own.

“What’s an entrepreneur want with a crippled ex-army gunsmith?”

He watched Cobblepot’s face as it twisted from bemusement to dark humour. “Now ‘ere’s a question for you, lad… have you heard of the bloke they call ‘the Penguin’?”

Now, Danny regarded the smaller man once more, pursing his lips while he turned the question over in his head. “…Not really, not much, anyway. I don’t put much stock in the media, either… tends to either blow everything out of proportion, or tell only half the story, if that.”

A chuckle crackled through the receiver. “Let’s just say, a bloke in your position ain’t in much standing to refuse work bein’ offered. I’m offerin’ you a bartending job in my establishment, and Penguin’s got some work for your… other interests.” He smirked, leaning forward a bit in his chair. “Yeah, I know you had jobs behind a bar, ‘fore you joined the army.”

“You did your research.” Danny conceded, keeping his voice as level as possible. Quelling the rising suspicions he had about the man sitting opposite him, he weighed his options. Accepting the offer was very tempting; the man he’d killed –and he admitted that he did– had fully deserved the bullet between the eyes… criminal activities were far from being out of his comfort zone, he’d just never particularly dedicated himself to them, unless being a soldier counted. He didn’t think it counted. However, getting out of prison and having a legitimate job waiting for him was… a surprise, to say the least. It was more than most could ever hope to achieve, and it would be foolish for him to refuse the generous offer.

It seemed like his decision had already been made, even though it was rather unlike him to work for someone he didn’t particularly know anything about. That was part of the whole reason why his gun shop had been his own business.

“Alright, you’ve got yourself a deal. I’ll take both jobs… Penguin.”

As expected, instead of denying the connection, Cobblepot laughed. “Excellent! Expect t’be outta here in a week, at most.”

“…Much obliged.”

 


End file.
